


Small steps

by FanFicReader01



Category: Poets of the Fall
Genre: Character Death, Death, Emotions, Grief, Insert Jaris Daze face, Loss, M/M, YALL READY TO GET EMOTIONAL, all the feels, i'll add tags when yall done reading, welcome on this feel trip, yall gonna crie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:05:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: The five stages of grief & loss experienced through the bandmembers





	1. You're still here (Denial)

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is obviously named after a PoTF song. Yet I didn't really look at the meaning/lyrics behind the song.  
> 

Olli was tuning his guitar when he suddenly heard soothing piano music coming from the other side of the room. A hopeful smile appeared on his face as he stood up to look for the source.

In the other room he saw Markus. He looked graceful and awesome as ever. Olli smirked. Even inside the man wore his sunglasses.

 

‘Hey, Kapu’, Olli greeted.

‘Hey, Olli. Know what I’m playing?’

 ‘Let me guess, All the way/4U?’, the guitarist guessed.

Kapu nodded and gave him a warm smile. Olli returned that smile and approached the keyboardist closer.

He didn’t dare to touch him, however. Not since Markus’ body got more fragile and sensitive.

‘Can we play together?’, Olli wanted to know. Markus shrugged his shoulders. ‘Why not?’

Olli let his hands rest on the keys next to Kapu’s left hand. Then he carefully pressed the keys.

It left a hollow sound ringing in the room. This room was empty. Only the piano filled this room.

 Olli was alone.

Markus was gone.


	2. War (Anger)

A whole month had passed since the funeral. Olli didn’t remember much of the days that had followed. He hardly ate, the other bandmembers had to tell him to eat at least something. Olli slept a lot. Sometimes he woke up and then it was already noon.

When the once cheerful guitarist looked in the mirror one day, he could hardly recognize himself.

He looked exhausted. His face had become paler and there were dark circles around his eyes, even though he slept most of the time. His hair got longer and was plastered against his face with sweat. Messy.

 

‘You keep it together’, the guitarist grunted at himself. He dared to look into his own eyes. He grimaced. Then he screamed. It might not be physical agony, but there was mental pain for sure.

His fists slammed against the mirror. There was a small crack. Olli swore he could see Markus in the reflection.

 ‘What do you want from me? Don’t judge me when you’re dead!’, he shouted. More slamming against that wicked mirror. The face of his lover didn’t disappear. It only multiplied in those shattered pieces.

 The musician sniveled as he dropped onto the bathroom floor. Only now did he feel the cuts in his hands. He was bleeding.

 

 ‘Olli? Are you in there?’, a familiar voice was heard from the other side of the closed door. It was not the voice he wanted to hear.

 The blond man crawled up again and went for the door. He pressed his ear against the door to hear if the other man had left.

 ‘Jani?’, Olli was almost surprised when he heard his own voice. He even sounded tired and his throat felt sore.

‘Yes, that’s me. How long are you going to lock yourself up in there? I need to shave’, Jani sounded slightly frustrated.

Olli tried to open the lock without bleeding too much. Jani stumbled inside the bathroom and looked horrified when he saw what happened to the guitarist.

‘My gosh, Olli! What have you done? So much blood!’, Jani carefully studied the wounds on Olli’s hands.

‘I’ll get Marko, he knows what to do’, the bassist said before he went looking for the lead singer.

 

The singer and the bassist returned to take care of the cuts. Olli said it wasn’t necessary. They didn’t listen.

 

The next day Jani appeared at the guitarist’s house. His face looked dark when Olli opened the door.

  ‘Hey, Olli.’

‘Hey, Jani. What are you doing here?’

‘Just checking if everything is okay’, Jani explained himself.

‘You don’t have to. You know _nothing_ is okay. Go home’, Olli wanted to slam the door shut in the bassist’s face, but the taller man refused to leave.

 ‘Hey, look, I know you’re angry and sad and everything, but maybe I could help you.’

‘How?’, Olli snorted in disbelief.

‘Remember that old, abandoned warehouse? We could go there, y’know. Break some stuff. Let it all out. Perhaps you have some old stuff you don’t want or need anymore?’

 

_Kapu, Markus’ stuff. Photos, his camera, clothes._

‘I have nothing.’

‘But I have. Come on, let’s go.’

The two men drove an hour until they reached their destination.

 

‘Are you sure no one visits this place?’

‘Maybe some youngsters. Don’t worry, haven’t seen anyone here in the past few days. Now, let it all out’ Jani encouraged the smaller man. He even gave the guitarist an old plate he could use.

Olli shuddered a bit before he took the ceramic in his hands. Soon after, the thing got smitten onto the concrete.

Plate after plate, cup after cup got shattered on the ground. And Olli screamed like a madman. Jani watched. After a few minutes, he decided to join his friend. He might not have been Markus’ partner, but he sure had been a very dear friend to him. And hell, did Markus’ death hurt Jani too.

 

When everything they brought with them had been ruined, they sat down in the mess.

Their tears had been shed. Both of them got a bit hurt in the process. Yet not painful like the shallow gap Markus had left in their chest.


	3. Fragile (Bargaining)

The raging storm had passed and Olli was more calm now. It had clearly improved his bond with the other bandmembers.

 

The lead guitarist found the other guitarist sitting in the kitchen. He seemed to be writing.

 ‘Hey’, Olli spoke up.

Jaska looked at him and smiled. ‘Hey, Olli. How are you holding up?’

 ‘I’m doing okay, I guess. How about you? What are you doing?’

‘I’m writing a letter’, Jaska replied as he focused back on the paper in front of him.

Olli took the envelope from the table.

 ‘To God? You’re writing a letter to God?’, Olli commented.

The other guitarist nodded. ‘And to Markus’, he added. The name of Olli’s deceased lover, felt like a new bullet through his heart.

 ‘You think there’s a heaven? You believe in God?’ the smaller man exclaimed.

Now Jaska shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t really know. But it gives me some kind of peace: thinking there is such thing as a heaven. I certainly do not believe in a hell, though. You know, when I was younger my mother talked about God. She said that if I ever felt unheard or sad or something else, I could write a letter to God. To express or explain my feelings, my doubts, my thoughts. God may not always reply but he certainly reads all the letters people would send. So that’s why I’m writing now.’

 That story left Olli speechless.

A letter to God, to Markus.

 ‘Do you think I could write a letter too?’

‘Of course. Here’s another piece of paper and an envelope.’

‘Thank you, Jaska.’


	4. Maybe tomorrow is a better day (Depression)

Olli should not have been surprised when neither God or his lover sent a letter back.

The guitarist felt lonely again. He really thought he was finally over it. The other bandmembers seemed to have moved on already. Yet here he was, still mourning.

 

It was midnight when Olli paid their studio a secret visit.

 

He found himself often in the studio when no one was there. Sometimes he’d play a bit on the old keyboard or piano. Sometimes he was just lying on the ground, eyes closed, silently weeping.

From time to time he walked through the familiar hallway, trailing his finger over the photos with Kapu.

 

Olli sneaked into the studio and he got startled by the sound of the piano.

Was he hallucinating? It couldn’t be him. Markus was not among them anymore. Olli felt his chest ache and his heart started to beat faster as he approached the practice room.

He left the light switches alone and in the darkness he found his way to the room.

 ‘Olli?’, the guitarist could hear the singer. He sounded scared, maybe even sad.

‘Marko? What are you doing here?’, Olli asked.

‘Nothing. Just playing the piano. I, what are _you_ doing here?’ Marko’s voice sounded broken. Olli could hear it.

The way Marko pronounced every word slower than normal. How there were silences between each word he said. He had been crying.

 ‘I, uh, I wanted to play some music too’, Olli muttered. With no words left, he joined the singer behind the piano. Markus’ piano.

 

‘Have you been crying, Marko?’ Olli hardly dared to ask. His eyes were getting used to the dark and he could see the singer nod.

 ‘Yes. I have. Gosh, I miss him so much’, Marko started to sob uncontrollably. Olli embraced his friend.

‘Me too’, he let his tears run freely now.

Together the two musicians sat there at the piano of their friend.

When they awoke the next morning, Jani, Jaska and Jari were there for them.


	5. Cradled in love (Acceptance)

One day, Jari invited Olli to take a walk in the park with their dogs. Olli had agreed.

 

‘How are you feeling, Olli?’, the drummer asked. Olli stared at his feet while they walked through the park.

 ‘I think I’m healing. Slowly, but I am healing’, he mumbled. Jari swung one arm over Olli’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

 ‘That’s good to hear. Because I was worried. I was afraid we would lose you too.’

Olli stopped walking and stared at the other man in surprise. ‘Really? God, I’m sorry if I made you that worried’, the guitarist apologized.

 ‘It’s alright. It has been, it _is_ a rough time for everybody. Everyone has just another way of coping with it. But I’m glad you’re starting to live again’ Jari smiled.

And Olli, for the first time after his partner had died, smiled again. It was a _real_  smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEREBY I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL THE FEELS THIS HAS CAUSED YOU
> 
> THe Writer apologizes and says that the Real Kapu^tm is doing just fine :D everyone is fine


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